Bad Romeo Christmas: A Starcrossed Anthology (Starcrossed #4)(6)

Men are always difficult to buy for, and Ethan's no help, because he keeps saying that all he wants is me. Well, that's sweet, but I don't think his parents and sister are going to be too thrilled about him unwrapping lil' ol' Cassandra Taylor in front of them on Christmas Eve.

I need something that shows him, and them, that I love him, while still staying at the G-rated end of the spectrum.

I stumble when Ethan stops suddenly. I follow his gaze to the brightly lit store window beside us and know what's coming.

"Ethan, no."

"Cassie, yes. That one. The white one with the bows. No, wait. The blue. Screw it, get them both. It's not like they're going to survive being worn more than once anyway."

We're in front of the La Perla window, and Ethan is staring at all of the silky garments like he's imagining me in all of that hideously overpriced prettiness. Then he gets this intense, feral expression on his face that makes me think he's going tear off my clothes, press me up against the glass, and f*ck me right here on the street.

He actually has pushed me up against the window a few times, but so far my clothing has stayed intact. I'm not sure if that has more to do with the cold weather than his self-control, but either way I'm grateful. Ethan's not known for his restraint these days, especially when he gets like this. The expression on his face right now signals we have twenty-minutes, max, to get somewhere private, or risk being arrested for gross public indecency.

I'd like to say I'm able to be the logical, level-headed one in this situation, but that would be a filthy lie. He turns me on so much, he could ask me to go down on him here and now, and I'd risk frostbitten knees to please him. There's nothing hotter than Ethan when he's hanging onto his control by his fingernails. My whole body is on high alert as he clenches his jaw and studies me.

"Pick one," he orders, his voice deep and determined. "Or I'll buy them both."

"Ethan, no. They're too expensive. If you're going to insist on ripping lingerie off me, then we have to buy something that doesn't cost the equivalent of a month's rent."

He's not even listening anymore. He's staring at me and imagining what he's going to do when we get back to my place. Judging from the look on his face, I'm going to be naked for hours.

Tough job, but someone has to do it.

I shift my weight and try to deal with being this aroused in public. "You have to stop looking at me like that," I say and put my hand on his chest. "We can't go home yet. I still have to buy your gift."

"Cassie, I told you –"

"I know, but I'm getting you something, so deal with it. And I really hope you've gotten me something that I can open in front your family without everyone feeling super awkward."

He looks contemplative. "Hmmm. Maybe I'll rethink the crotchless panties." When I slap his arm, he smiles. "Have some faith, woman. Do you think I want my mother knowing how depraved I am when I'm with you? She'd have a f*cking stroke. Don't worry, I have a kick-ass parent-friendly present for you. I'll save the edible massage oil and anal beads until we get home."

I drag him away from the window. "Glad to hear it. I haven't even wrapped the giant strap-on I bought to use on you." When all the color drains from his face, I laugh. "Joking. I've totally wrapped it. That enormous box under our tree? That's the Anal Intruder 3000. Nothing but state-of-the-art sodomy for the man I love."

He growls and kisses me. "You're not funny. I hope you know that. And for the record, no strap-ons. Ever. Just the thought of it has my sphincter running for cover." He throws his arm around me. "Now, stop torturing me so we can eat. I'm starving."

"But you ate all that casserole I made for lunch."

He gives me a sideways glance. "Yeah, but that was hours ago. Now I need seventeen steaks and a gallon of beer. A man cannot live on green bean casserole alone, no matter how ..." He clears his throat. "... delicious it is."

He thinks he's fooling me, but he's not. I know my food is terrible, and certainly not up to his high standards, but at least I'm not giving up, no matter how much he wishes I would.

We walk and chat for a while about where we're going to eat. When we pass a bookstore window, a lightbulb goes off in my brain. It reminds me of an amazing book I'd seen in a magazine a while ago. At the time, I was still in my Ethan-Holt-is-the-Devil frame of mind, so I turned the page so violently I ripped the paper. But our situation has changed, and now, it would be the perfect present to give him.

I turn to him. "Why don't you go on ahead to the restaurant? I'll be there in a few minutes. I think I know what to get you."

He leans down and gives me a soft kiss. "Am I going to like it?"

"I think so."

"Is it a certificate for unlimited blow jobs?"

"No."

"Really? You said I'd like it. What I like more than anything is your beautiful mouth wrapped around my big, hard –"

I push him away and laugh. "You're ridiculous. Go. I'll be there soon."

He walks backward and shrugs. "Fine. But don't say I didn't give you any gift ideas. I'm a simple man, Cassie. Easily pleased. When in doubt, go for the BJ. It's an Ethan pleaser, every single time."